To Be Human Part VI
by Princepen
Summary: This is the sixth part of a continuing story. I had an idea for this story when watching TOS episode "What are Little Girls Made Of", so some of the cheesy android "science" I use here can be blamed on that show; everything else can be blamed on me. Hope you enjoy, and I appreciate your feedback.
1. Chapter 1

Part VI—Chapter 1

"Captain Picard, we have a dilemma." Admiral Zev regarded Picard from a wall view screen in a Daystrom Institute view screen. "I am contacting you because Starfleet Command wants a status update, but I also have some very disturbing news for you."

Picard stood with his hands clasped behind his back. The call had come in moments ago, and he knew his face was grimy from having been thrown to the ground by Sylvia Sharpe, whose immense strength had shocked him. In the process of tackling her he had broken his hand, which he now deliberately kept behind his back to minimize his unkempt appearance in front of the Admiral. The truth was, Picard was shaken. Riker and Data were missing, whereabouts unknown, and Worf was badly injured and back aboard the Enterprise, after having been struck in the windpipe by Sylvia.

When he had attempted to contact Haftel, he'd discovered that Haftel had departed on a "classified" mission and his staff had refused to reveal his whereabouts. At that moment Picard had felt his stomach clench, and no further investigation was needed for him to know that Vash would be missing as well and that she had gone, as promised, to the surface of the planet below. How had he not put two and two together when she had announced her plans to visit Exo III? And now, was she in danger? Perhaps, but then so were Data and Riker. He had a duty to all of them to protect them. Soon, he knew, he would be faced with the kinds of familiar and uncomfortable choices he was obligated to make in the course of his duties. Would he have to choose who to save? Picard was accustomed to being in control, and it would have been an understatement to say that at this point in time, he had no grasp on a situation spiraling quickly out of control.

And they were no closer to having solved the problem of the time distortion, which, according to Data and Geordi's formal report was much more serious than previously thought. In fact, the time distortion was the product of a wormhole, which, as it grew more unstable, threatened to unleash a universe that would envelope the one they were currently inhabiting; the only one they had ever known. So, as Zev began to tell him the bad news, he wondered how much worse it could really get.

"First, let me hear your report, Captain."

Picard told her what he knew about the distortion, Manheim's murder investigation so far, and the disappearance of Haftel, his officers and Vash.

Zev's antennae twitched in irritation. "Captain, I wish that we could help track down Admiral Haftel. I have...believed for some time that he was growing erratic and untrustworthy..."

"And why can't you provide any assistance, Admiral?" As much as Picard admired Zev as an old friend and colleague, he knew that her loyalties to Command outweighed her loyalties to him even as her former commanding officer.

"As severe as the time distortions appear to you and your crew, Captain, they actually appear more serious from our outside observations. As of 0900 this morning, the entire Exo system has been declared a quarantine region, Captain. This means no ships in and no ships out until the rip in the time-space continuum has been sealed."

Picard looked down at his feet, and looked up when he felt certain there was no visible anger in his face. "I see," he said flatly.

"Picard, on the outermost planet in the Exo system, the animal and plant life was tropical until this morning. Within the last few hours the tropical region has receded and the planet appears to be changing into a desert climate."

"That is certainly bizarre, Admiral. And you believe that this is related to Manheim's experiments?"

Zev sighed. "The planet Axel, just outside the Exo system has had a Federation colony for the last fifty years. Today that colony disappeared, Captain."

"What?"

"All 6000 colonists, and their living structures, technology, everything disappeared as if they were never there. Our scientists here, some of whom fled from the Daystrom Institute three days ago believe that a universe originating from the time rift is encroaching on us, replacing our space, our time, with its own. Unless it is sealed, the Exo system and everything else as we know it will be gone."

Picard stood stone faced. "Admiral, that the stakes may be higher than before. But my task is no different. I do intend to finish the job, Zev."

Admiral Zev smiled tightly. "Captain I know you will do your best. It is all we have. Zev out."

"Picard to Counselor Troi." The Captain's disembodied voice sounded through a speaker in Troi's quarters. She uncurled from her chair, where she had alternately been napping and reading the reports generated by the investigative teams on the Daystrom Institute. Right at that moment, at the sound of Picard's voice, reminded her that her friends were missing, and also reminded her that she felt unable to assist in any meaningful way.

"Yes, Captain, Troi here."

"As you know, we're now dealing with one crisis compounded by another. Our priority is to stop the time distortions created by Manheim, but without Data, we are severely handicapped in this regard. Without the ability to leave this solar system, we are unable to mount an adequate search for him. And Commander Riker's disappearance has left me without my most trusted officer." Picard paused, and for the first time recently, she sensed an uncertainty within him that frightened her. If Picard didn't know a way out of this, then hope was hardly within reach. "My point is, that I need your help now more than ever."

Troi felt suddenly empowered because she was needed. "Captain, I am here to help."

"Admiral Zev informed me that there is now very real evidence that this alternate universe Manheim awakened, is rapidly encroaching on our own. If we don't find the breach in time and plug it up, so to speak, we will disappear along with everything else. I need you to organize and implement the immediate evacuation of the remaining personnel on this station. Based on what Zev told me, I fear that this station will begin to disappear, and if we've relocated everyone to the Enterprise, even though the Enterprise is also at risk, at least it is mobile. I want these people to have a fighting chance."

"Understood Captain."


	2. Chapter 2

Part VI—Chapter 2

**Starfleet Academy 2342**

"What kinds of beings are entitled to rights?" The professor paced as the students' anxious eyes followed him around the room. "Anyone?" he prompted.  
"Anything that is alive and knows it's alive, has a the right to live," ventured one student carefully, when no one else dared to answer.  
"What about a dog? A sea horse? Do they have rights?"  
"Of course," the student answered more confidently. "They have a sense of being a dog or being a sea horse, therefore they know they are alive. They're sentient."  
"Yes, but it hasn't always been that way has it?" The class stared at Professor Salinger wide-eyed, in silent response. To them it had always been "that way".  
Professor Salinger smiled at the innocence of his students and continued. "There was a time, at least here on Earth, that people used to eat animals. Like chickens, for instance." The room hushed and Salinger felt nervous eyes following him as he paced the front of the classroom.  
"Real chickens? Not replicated ones?" A female student questioned him dubiously.  
"Yes and my point is that in the past those chickens had no rights. Not as they do now, at least. So what entitles you to rights if it's not just about being alive? Anyone?"  
A new hand shot up.  
"Yes, Data?"  
The android had a naturally inquisitive demeanor, which is more than Salinger could say for the majority of his human students. "The society or group which controls the resources and political power creates or uses an existing system of ethics to designate who or what will have rights."  
"Perhaps," conceded Salinger, halting his pacing in front of the android. "But is that fair?"  
Data looked at the professor blankly. "I do not know."  
He began his pacing again. "Sure you do, Data. What you are saying is that it is the people in power who decide who has rights. So let me ask you a different way: If humans decided you should not be educated with human students that wouldn't be fair would it?"

"I do not know," repeated Data. Try as he might, he was unable to answer questions related to fairness. A few snickers accentuated the awkwardness in the room.

Maybe you have to be alive to answer that question" a classmate had offered rather snottily.  
"And Data's not?" The professor pressed.  
The young man had shrugged. "_No offense_, but Data is no more alive than the cafeteria replicator, professor."  
Nervous laughter again.  
"Prove it." demanded the professor.  
"Prove what?"  
"Prove that Data is not alive."

The student reddened. He opened and closed his mouth awkwardly, then shrugged, sitting back in his chair.

Professor Salinger smiled. "Not so easy to support your bigotry with factual arguments is it? No offense, of course," he added quietly, looking down at the student. In a louder voice he said, "Perhaps you should all use Cadet Data as an example and think before you speak. Class dismissed."

"Don't you think you should have your hand looked at, Captain?" Bruce Maddox sat still in a conference room. He tried to keep his mood even, but knowing that Sylvia was in custody…that she might be in danger, made him uneasy.

Captain Picard stood over him, arms crossed, glowering. "Don't change the subject, Commander," said Picard through gritted teeth. His left hand throbbed dully. He kept it tucked carefully under his armpit because when he shifted it even slightly, he felt the bones grate together painfully. Dr. Crusher had contacted him several minutes earlier to tell him that Worf was out of surgery and would recover. Amazingly his throat had been so severely impacted by Sylvia Sharpe's thin forearm that his voice box had to be reconstructed. Although the Klingon had made it through the worst of it, Crusher said that Worf would be unable to speak for at least another day. Naturally, Picard had been confounded by the extent of Worf's injuries, until Crusher had quickly explained that Sylvia Sharpe was somehow a synthetic, an android, like Data. But how? Crusher hadn't had any answers for him. And when she'd asked him whether he was injured, he'd mumbled something distractedly about a mild sprain and then signed off.

"Commander Maddox, according to my investigative team your…girlfriend, Ms. Sharpe, is directly responsible for the death of Doctor Charles Manheim. Are you trying to tell me that you had no idea of her involvement?"

"Captain, Sylvia wouldn't raise her hand to hurt a bug, much less kill another human being," he said for the third time, as calmly as possible.

Picard knew his face betrayed his growing anger. "She's not a _human being_, Maddox, she's an android!" He shouted, foolishly slamming his fist into the table. He stifled a cry of pain, and grabbed his broken hand, turning away with a sharp inhalation. Looking down, he could see it was now very swollen. Wiping his brow with his sleeve, he turned back to Maddox, who in contrast to Picard had turned a very pale hue.

"What do you mean…android?" Maddox tried to laugh, but no sound came out.

Picard now did laugh, but not pleasantly so. "I _mean_ that Ms. Sharpe is not a human being, she is an android."

"But how?" Maddox looked utterly confused and it only served to further infuriate Picard.

"Why are you asking me? For a scientist who has made a career out of studying androids, why don't you know? How could a woman, whose last physical one year ago showed her to be a perfectly normal, healthy human, now become an android?"

Maddox remained silent. His expression had changed to one of horror and anguish. For a brief moment, Picard felt pity, even sympathy for this man. Imagine being in love and then suddenly learning that the person you are in love with belongs to a race you had made a career out of discriminating against. It might cause you to change your perspective, and quickly. And if you were able to so quickly change your prejudices, wouldn't that mean those beliefs you held so tightly to before as truths, beliefs you had built your career around—now meant nothing at all?

"I don't know," said Maddox, getting up from his chair. "Captain, something changed Sylvia when she had her accident all those months ago, but to me she was always just…Sylvia. I already told Laforge that."

Picard pressed on, "Then why—"

"Captain," Maddox nearly shouted. "We're wasting our time here. I have information you need, but you have to let me go and you have to promise not to punish Sylvia."

Picard felt his broken hand begin to shake slightly. "Commander Maddox…are you attempting to coerce your superior officer into letting Dr. Manheim's killer go free? If you have information, you had better come clean with it," he snapped. "I make no promises about what may or may not happen to Ms. Sharpe."

Maddox sighed, clasping and unclasping his hands, and then the words just spilled out. "Data was taken by Haftel and handed over to a Nausicaan and some Ferengi. I witnessed him walk into a conference room and when he emerged he was in a stasis tube. I followed Haftel and the Nausicaan to the docking bay and there I saw Data's body loaded onto a freighter. Haftel was obviously in charge of the entire operation. A large shuttle craft was also docked and seemed to be in preparation for departure. I saw Haftel go in and out of the shuttle. I also saw Riker…he was unconscious but alive and in the docking bay when the freighter departed."

A feeling of dread washed over Picard. "That docking bay has now been searched thoroughly," he said. "It's completely empty."

Maddox nodded. "As I said, Data was taken by that freighter. Any ship can be tracked, and therefore he can be found. As for Riker I would guess that he was discovered and taken aboard Haftel's shuttle."

"Or he woke up and decided to stow away for some reason," said Picard slowly, playing several possible scenes over in his head. "The station computer has reported him as missing from the station. So let's assume he is with Haftel either by force or some other reason."And Vash was with them… He was silent for a moment. "Picard to O'Brien."

"Aye, sir, good timing. We've got the lab results from the cargo container Commander Riker beamed up."

"And?"

"The cargo contained two metallic substances, Captain: cortenide and duranium."

"Did you cross-reference the use of these two metals together?"

"Didn't have to, sir. Commander LaForge reminded me that cortenide and duranium are the two main components comprising Commander Data's skull." Picard shot a look at Maddox, who visibly flinched at the mention of Data. "There are no other recorded uses in Starfleet of these two substances combined."

"Thank you, O'Brien," said Picard. "I need you to run a scan for a shuttle craft in the Exo III atmosphere or on the surface of the planet. I also need you to search for the transport signatures of Commander Riker and Admiral Haftel."

"Aye Sir, scanning." There was a pause. "Sorry sir, the atmosphere of the planet is highly volatile and is interfering with our sensors. If there is anything there sir, it's not showing up."

"Understood. O'Brien, put a trace on the _Deceit_ and let any ships know in surrounding sectors we are searching for that freighter. I want Data back safe and sound. Picard out." He fixed Maddox with an icy stare. "Commander, some of my most valued crew members have disappeared without a trace and we've just learned that Admiral Haftel is shipping in materials used only to build android skulls. Are you still going to maintain you know nothing of his plans?"

Maddox shook his head. "I've told you everything I know."

The intercom beeped.

"Captain Picard, the prisoner has requested to speak with you," the guard's bored voice interrupted. Picard looked at Maddox for a reaction, but the man's face only conveyed confusion.

Picard nodded as if the guard could see him. "Fine, bring her in."

"Before you know it, you will be good as new, Lt.—I promise you," Dr. Crusher added with a smile. Her patient was unresponsive, but it wasn't because he was unconscious. Understandably, he hadn't been able to speak since the accident when Sylvia Sharpe had crushed his windpipe while trying to escape capture down at the Institute. Despite the severity of his injury he was healing at a fast rate, thanks to his genetics and her ministrations, healing physically, that is. She'd provided him with a device so that he could communicate with her staff, but up until now, he'd refused.

Beverly Crusher had known Worf long enough to know what his real problem was. "Worf, it could have happened to any one of us. Stop blaming yourself. "  
Worf grabbed the data pad next to his thigh and began typing. "It should not have happened while I was on duty, Doctor. I am security chief. I should not have left you alone in the morgue. Had I been with you we might have prevented Sylvia Sharpe's escape altogether."  
Crusher sighed. "Worf, she's in custody now and that's the most important thing." She ran a scanner over his forehead taking his temperature.

Worf typed furiously. "The Captain would **not** have been injured had I performed adequately."  
Beverly knew a conversation related to duty and the Captain's safety could potentially take up the rest of her afternoon, and with Worf now on the mend, her bedside manner was fading. "Oh I wouldn't worry," she said attempting to placate him. "The Captain claims to be just fine."  
"But-"

"You know what they say about hindsight don't you Worf?"

"No" Worf typed out. Even his typeface was somehow gruff.  
"Well, it's twenty-twenty" said Crusher and walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

Part VI-Chapter 3

The ship was large; a leviathan of immense proportions. Not that Data could actually see anything inside his cramped and dark temporary prison. But he could feel the hum of the ship's propulsion systems at work, and he estimated the ship to be at least three times the size of the enterprise. His musings were suddenly interrupted by a hiss and the pop of a very bright light. The face that greeted him was quite expected by now, since Data had listened for hours at the man's underlings, presumably his guards, speaking of their employer with no less than contempt. As he stared unblinkingly at Kivas Fajo's face he saw a smirk fade ever so slightly with disappointment when Fajo did not see the fear in Data's face he had no doubt come to expect from his captives. Of course Fajo was well aware of Data's inability to feel anything, and so the familiar smirk returned quickly.

"Well?" Fajo invited. "Surprised to see me?" He silently answered his own question. "I know, stupid question right?" He frowned and then realizing why Data hadn't answered and gestured to his guards. "Lift him out of here and shut off the dampening device so I can talk to him." The guards obliged and pulled the android from his carrying case.

"Easy, easy," Fajo chided their clumsiness. "This one's actually worth something."  
With the dampening device gone Data was able to speak again. He ran an internal check and all systems seemed to be functioning within normal parameters. He stood still and watched Fajo walk slow circles around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he recognized one of the guards: it was the Nausiccan who had stunned him at the Institute. The other guard was an unattractive looking human male.

Suddenly the merchant clapped his hands together loudly. "So! Now you're free...care to answer my question? Are you surprised to see me?"

Data glanced at him. "As you are aware, I have no capacity for surprise. However the probability of your escape from prison was three thousand six hundred and seven to one."  
"Aha! So you would not have predicted it."

"The odds do not favor escape from maximum security prison," Data said mildly.

"Escape," scoffed Fajo. "Sweet, naive Data! There are far less messy ways out of prison than getting shot at by guards or waiting it out seventy years for a pardon." He put an arm around Data's shoulders as if to confide in him. "You see, Data, if you know enough secrets about the right people you can obtain anything you want or need. And", he added, "my immense wealth doesn't hurt either."

Data stopped walking. "Material wealth is no longer relevant," he said simply.  
"Really," said Fajo mockingly. "Maybe in your limited little Starfleet world, Data, but not in mine. In mine, wealth is everything."

Data looked at him seriously. "You will not be able to evade capture for long, Fajo."

Fajo frowned up at Data. "Yes, well, one can't have everything…at least I'll have you to count on," he said more optimistically.

"On the contrary," corrected Data. "I will focus my efforts on returning you to prison as soon as possible."

Fajo stopped walking abruptly. The guards nearly crashed clumsily into Fajo and Data, but Kivas Fajo was too involved in his own theatrics to notice. His face looked almost believably hurt. "Well, that seems a little harsh, Data. What did I ever do to you, anyway?"

"You held me against my will, allowed my crew members to believe that I had been destroyed in a shuttle explosion, and then murdered the woman who attempted to help me escape."

Fajo poked his index finger into the air. "Ah yes," he said quickly. "I don't suppose you'll ever forgive me for that?" he added with a sideways glance.

Data tilted his head and fixed Fajo with a humorless gaze. He noted they now stood outside of a door. The guards stood at a safe distance away. Data calculated how quickly he would be able to subdue Fajo and his guards, but for now decided against violence. The Nausiccan was a potential threat. He would need to learn more about his present situation before attempting escape.

Fajo broke into a sly smile as if reading Data's thoughts. "Gods, I missed you, Data. _Now_ I've got something to show you, and careful with your criticism, because I did it all for you. Ready?" He clapped his hands twice, and the door snapped open.

They were greeted by the beeps and whirs of a starship bridge. It took no time for Data to recognize that the bridge of Fajo's ship looked remarkably like the bridge of the Enterprise. In fact, it appeared to be an exact replica of the bridge he was familiar with.

Despite the accurate appearance of the various stations on the bridge, only one was occupied; the ops station. Data followed Fajo wordlessly onto the bridge. Fajo walked down the ramp, almost skipped down, in fact, he was so delighted with himself. "Alright," he announced giddily, clapping again. "Data, I would like you to meet…Data. Ha!"

Data strode up behind Fajo, just as the lone officer at ops turned in his seat to regard them stonily. "Greetings," said the…person Fajo had referred to as Data. In fact, as with the bridge, this individual appeared to be an exact replica of Data.

"Hello," responded Data evenly. Even for an android it was an odd thing to be faced with your exact twin. Data of course had a twin, but this was not quite the same. Lore was his own person, and yet this seemed to be a mere copy of Data's physical features.

The duplicate Data stood up and regarded Data and Fajo with little recognition, as though they may well have been the same person.

"Well?" demanded Fajo. "What do you think? He looks just like you."  
Data moved slightly to get a better look at the duplicate. "Yes," he agreed simply.

The doors swished open and Sylvia walked in, the guard stepping close behind her.

"Captain," she said with a stoic greeting, and then sat down beside Maddox at the table. Maddox reached for her hand and took it, watching her carefully. She did not seem to notice him and remained focused on Picard. "I have much to tell you. Now that I know who…" she paused, before continuing softly, "or…_what_ I am, something has changed and I remember almost everything."

"What has changed? And what do you remember?" Picard sat down slowly across from her. He could feel his patience ebbing.

Sylvia's facial muscles seemed to twitch ever so slightly. She smiled tightly. "I can't say exactly what has changed, Captain, aside from Dr. Crusher's proclamation that I am no longer human. Perhaps something in my…programming has triggered the memories I now have." She studied him passively. Picard considered that perhaps she was looking for sympathy, but then corrected himself silently that this would have been too human a need. And yet, she still seemed human enough….

"What memories?" he asked brusquely.

"Everything, sir." Her eyes were just as devoid emotion as they had been just a few days ago, except now she appeared comfortable with her strangeness, her lack of humanity.

Picard breathed in sharply, thinking of Manheim. And Jenice. Nevertheless, he steeled himself to hear the truth. "Go on," he said dully.

"For the last six months of his life Manheim was... unbalanced. The obsessive side of his personality became dominant."

"Why?"  
"Manheim believed that he could resurrect his dead wife. More to the point he believed that my father could help bring her back."

"Back from where?" he demanded.

"Mrs. Manheim—Jenice was part of the mission to Exo III. She was gravely injured during the journey there. We all were," Sylvia added.

"And yet somehow you survived," Picard snapped, standing up. To think of Jenice suffering, dying was almost too much for him to imagine.

"That is only partly true, sir. My body did not survive, which is why it was reconstructed."

"Reconstructed? How? By whom?"

Sylvia ignored his question. "Without Manheim's involvement, my father would have been unable to return to Exo III and finish what he started. My father relied on Dr. Manheim's grief to keep him in the project."  
Picard remained silent.  
"He told Dr. Manheim he would focus on bringing Jenice back just as he had me," Sylvia continued.  
"Go on," he prodded. Time was running.  
"Gradually Manheim began to suspect that my father was not being true to his promise. He worked furiously on his Tipler device so that the next trip to Exo III would be survivable. The truth was he was obsessed with seeing his dead wife again and had no care for himself or any other living person by this point. My father perpetuated that obsession with reassurances that Jenice could be...revived."

"This Tipler device is the same device Commander Data discovered in Manheim's lab?"

"Yes. In short, Captain, the Tipler device was our mode of transport to Exo III. Specifically to many years in the past."

"The Tipler is capable of time travel?"

"More than capable of time travel, Captain, it's only purpose is to travel in time. My father commissioned Manheim to create the device to travel back in time to serve his purposes."

"Why did he lure Vash to go to the surface with him? She believed she was going on some kind of archeology dig. What is his game?"

"In order to explain, Captain, I will need to show you what my father has been working on. It is the sole reason the new Daystrom station was built in orbit of Exo III. Now that I understand the…horror of what he has done, what he is still trying to do, Captain, I will help you to stop him."


	4. Chapter 4

Part VI -Chapter 4

Sylvia had led Picard to Haftel's hidden laboratory, promising to explain everything. At the center of the room was a very odd circular platform with a division down the center. On each half of the platform was a layer of oddly constructed material that appeared to have been softly molded to fit a prone humanoid form. He had looked at Sylvia for explanation.

Silently she had walked to the far side of the room, and opened a storage locker. Inside were several half completed synthetic bodies; android bodies. They were headless, nude, and very much a work in progress from what he could see with a completely untrained eye. All three had distinctly feminine proportions. The scene was off-putting.

Again he had turned to Sylvia questioningly.

"He is attempting to build a prototype," she said. "His plan is to create a prototype android, one he can bring back to the present and perfect before replicating it many times over. He has apparently fixated on Vash to accomplish this. Once he has the prototype he will be able to create hundreds, perhaps thousands more of this model," she said.

"Why?"

"Because he wants to prove it can be done."

"Damn his arrogance, it already _has_ been done. Look at Data."

"Yes, but Data was never made available for in-depth study. My father tried to have him disassembled several years ago, but his attempt failed."

"That was Maddox, not your father," corrected Picard gently.

Sylvia shook her head. "Until this station was built, Bruce Maddox worked for my father almost exclusively. It was my father who sent Bruce Maddox to have Data removed from the Enterprise. When that was unsuccessful, my father went directly to Data when Data announced that he had created an offspring. You can imagine that after Lal was deactivated, my father's frustration only increased."

"Well it appears that he's now resorted to kidnapping Data."

Sylvia shook her head. "I cannot be sure, Captain, but wherever Data is, he is no longer central to my father's plans."

"Is Data in danger?" Picard could not help but hear the muted desperation in his own voice.

"No, Captain, he is too valuable to risk, at least as far as my father is concerned. But I don't know why they've taken him, or where."

Picard stared at her, unable to completely let go of his suspicion. Should he trust her?

He changed the subject. "What exactly does your father want with Vash?"

Sylvia began to pace the room, with an almost human listlessness. "I mentioned a prototype, Captain…When I awoke on Exo III after the accident, I was lying in a chamber much like this one," she said pointing to the platform at the center of the room. "On the other side was a…mold of sorts. My consciousness, everything I had ever known or been was transferred in to that synthetic mold, and when the process was completed, my body died, but my mind lived on so to speak in a new body; an android body. This is what he intends to do with Vash."

Picard's mouth hung open, stunned by the horror of what he was hearing. He actually took a step back from her. "What the hell kind of technology—"

"Captain, it is the technology of Exo III's past that brought me back. And this," she said pointing at the platform again, "is my father's attempt to replicate this technology for use in our time. But to do so, he had to take great risk."

Picard tried to take in the gravity of what he was hearing. "He sent a secret scientific team back into the past on an untested, unstable time machine, and as a result people have already died. What's more he intends to use Vash to finally build his perfect android—after which he will simply discard her? And if that were not enough," he said fixing her with an intense gaze, "The work he commissioned Manheim to do has caused a rip in the space time continuum that may be impossible to repair."

It was an accurate summary, so Sylvia simply nodded. "Yes."

"You specifically said you had a 'mild sprain' and I come back down here and find you've crushed two of the metacarpal bones in your left hand." Picard sat in a chair in the Daystrom medical bay, which was nearly empty now that evacuation of the station was under way. Dr. Crusher crouched down in front of him.

Picard eyed Dr. Crusher as she ran bone-knitting laser over his hand. "I'm sorry, Doctor, I had more pressing problems to deal with than a minor injury to my hand."

"Oh I see," she said turning his hand over and tracing the laser over his palm. "The old martyr routine is back then."

He resisted the urge to snatch his hand away in outrage, as she was repairing it, after all. "I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about" he murmured, looking away from her.

"Of course you don't," she said evenly. "Okay, Jean-Luc. You're hand is as good as new. And here's a hypo for any residual pain." She touched his neck lightly with the instrument and it hissed.

"Thank you, Doctor," he said, moving his hand and wrist around. "Seems to be fine."

She sat back on her heels and regarded him with a small smile. "How many times have we found ourselves in this situation?"

"In what situation?" Asked Picard, trying to match her smile.

"The crew fighting against seemingly insurmountable odds...me patching you up, take your pick. It's a familiar scenario, Jean-Luc."

"Yes, I suppose so," he said quietly. "I...wish that Riker were here. I could use his counsel right now. Unfortunately he took it upon himself to try and stop Haftel." He felt himself getting annoyed with his First Officer, which did no one any good because the man was still missing.

Beverly stood up and looked down at him. "I'm sure he's fine, Jean-Luc. Will can take care of himself. And so can Vash," she added pointedly.

Picard exhaled loudly, ignoring the last part of her statement. He had no intention of getting into a discussion with Beverly about Vash. "Did Riker say anything to you about his plan before he left the station?" As he looked up at her she noted a look on his face that tended to make her think he wouldn't have been happy if Riker had confided in her. She bit her bottom lip and stepped backward, leaning against the wall.

"Actually, no, he didn't say anything to me, Jean-Luc," she said quietly. "Surely you know that I would tell you, if he had said anything that might help us find him." She searched his face for confirmation of her belief. Instead, somewhat shockingly, she saw shades of jealousy.

"Of course," he said. His face mirrored the hardness in his voice. He stood up quickly. "I have to be going. I need to meet with Commander LaForge briefly."

Shaking her head, she organized her medkit and looked at him. "I'll go with you—unless you have some objection?"

He smiled thinly. "Of course not Doctor, I value your input." Crusher nearly had to strain not to show how irritated she was.

When they stepped out of the medical bay, the main courtyard of the Institute appeared different. The color of the grass in the park had faded to gray, and all of the other colors seemed muted. Crusher turned to look at Picard. He was talking again, but the words seemed to emit from his lips more slowly than normal. Crusher turned to look behind her at the sound of light footsteps, and felt queasy as she moved. It was Troi. Picard also stopped and turned, and then his body seemed to repeat its movement. And then as they had been moments ago, they were walking forward again. Troi stood in front of them now. There was a sensation as though a wave passed through them, and then they were speaking.

"Understood, Captain," said Troi.

Picard looked confused. "What is understood?" He put a hand to his stomach, feeling queasy and jittery all at once.

Troi was confused, but not disoriented like Crusher and Picard. "You ordered me to return to the Enterprise, now that the evacuation is complete, Captain," said Troi. She looked at Picard and Crusher, who appeared nauseous and slightly pale. "Sir, that must have been another time distortion. Fortunately for me, I didn't experience it."

Picard caught his breath and glanced at Crusher who appeared equally shaken. "Yes. They are getting worse." He blinked and straightened his uniform. "You said you've completed the evacuation I ordered, Counselor?"

"Yes, sir. The last shuttle carrying Daystrom staff departed for the Enterprise several minutes ago. Aside from Enterprise personnel including us, the station is now cleared, Captain. Are you both alright?" Troi added with concern.

Picard glanced at Crusher, who nodded. "Yes, Counselor, we're fine," said Picard with a weak smile. "Good work."


	5. Chapter 5

Part VI-Chapter 5

Picard paced Manheim's lab as though he were getting ready to break into a run at any second. "Laforge, what do you know about this machine? According to Sylvia Sharpe, it can traverse time and space, and yet it is also responsible for the death of several people, including Jenice Manheim." Picard's stern gaze held more than its usual intensity as he fixed it on the engineer. Geordi Laforge stood with his back to the strange obelisk shaped device, suddenly looking and feeling as though he'd been put on the spot. More to the point he knew Picard well enough to know that the Captain was considering using the device for some purpose, which quite frankly, was a frightening prospect. Suddenly with little to say, Dr. Leah Brahms stood next to Geordi stiffly, hands draped behind her back.

"The fact is Captain, we don't know enough about this device yet, and given the circumstances we are under, we don't have the time to study it properly. The cylinder" he said, "extends beyond the station in the form of very dense exotic matter. Manheim created this and fused it with transporter technology." He hesitated.

"Go on," Picard prompted LaForge.

"When activated, the cylinder spins inwardly at an extremely rapid rate. A person's particles are broken down for transport and then accelerated at the speed of light to the point that time travel is created, along a personal wormhole bend. To some extent, it creates its own warp field."

"But is it a way into the wormhole?"

Geordi nodded. "Actually, Captain, based on the facts we've learned through our investigation and Sylvia's version of what transpired, I would say that the Tipler device either created the wormhole or added to its instability causing the time distortion."

"And the accident, Ms. Sharpe described: what went wrong?"

"If I had to guess, sir, the attempt to send too many people at once was what proved disastrous. According to Sylvia, all occupants made it to the time period Haftel had targeted, but most were not—intact."

"What do you mean?"

"They didn't make it through the transport process, Captain. According to Sylvia, some were...in pieces. The Tipler cylinder simply doesn't have the capacity to carry more than one occupant safely."

Picard leaned against the wall. "Geordi, if the wormhole entrance became visible, would we have the capacity to destroy it?"

"Captain, we think an anti-matter injection into the wormhole might collapse it. It would be similar to what Data did three years ago, but on a larger scale. I believe we have at least some capacity to pull this off."

Picard nodded and rubbed his chin. "If the cylinder were reactivated, do you think it might aid us in revealing the wormhole entrance long enough to destroy it?"

Geordi frowned. "Putting the danger of using the cylinder aside, Captain, I would say yes; but only if the cylinder were activated for an actual time travel event, similar to the mission to Exo III."

"Geordi," blurted out Crusher suddenly. "You can't really set aside the danger can you? A person who steps into that thing can't be sure that they will come out of the other side alive, or that they will return to this time period. In fact, a person would have to suspend their sanity before stepping into that thing, wouldn't they?" She now looked directly at Picard, who bristled at her insinuation that he was being anything other than reasonable.

"Well," said LaForge, intent on avoiding a hornet's nest, "you have a point, Doctor. I mean, this device hasn't been used to travel back here to the station. Admiral Haftel brought Sylvia back from Exo III by traversing the wormhole in a shuttle. Once the entrance to the wormhole was visible, he was able to travel into the past to retrieve her and then forward to the present time, but only by shuttle. So, you're right, we don't know if this would be strictly a one-way trip, and, well...it is risky."

"If it means we can seal the breach, it's worth the risk," Picard snapped. Geordi nodded reluctantly.

"Geordi, I want you to return to the Enterprise and increase your efforts to find a way to destroy the wormhole. I am going to enlist Ms. Sharpe to help me to activate the cylinder, at which time, you may at least gather more information about the phenomenon." He looked directly at LaForge, and carefully added, "We're all counting on you now." Leah Brahms stepped slightly forward to address him.

"Captain, I—"

Picard smiled tightly. "Of Course, Dr. Brahms, I would very much appreciate any assistance you could provide Commander LaForge with. We need all of the brainpower we can muster."

Picard and Beverly Crusher stood in Manheim's lab contemplating their options. LaForge and Brahms had already gone back to the Enterprise, and Picard had spoken briefly to Worf, who sounded as though he'd been healed from his run-in with Sylvia Sharpe. Picard informed Worf that the security chief would be in command of the Enterprise while he was otherwise engaged. Sylvia stood very still in the shadows."Beverly, I have to get down to that planet," said Picard for the third time, attempting a softer tone. "If she can get me down there, then I'm going."

Beverly Crusher stood in front of him, her arms folded and her mouth flattened into a tight line. "The hell you are," she said, eyes glinting. She took in a ragged breath and tried to shift to a more reasonable stance. "Jean-Luc, I know you want to mount a rescue, but at least take a security force with you in a shuttle craft, it's too—"

"Beverly, there's no time, and I could never be certain that I would find the entrance to the wormhole, - or that I would simply step into the correct time. Besides, I can't risk anyone else."

Beverly threw her hands down in exasperation. "You mean you _won't_ risk anyone else. Jean-Luc, stop being so stubborn and use your head, dammit!" Knowing her, and knowing that yelling back at her would only worsen the situation, Picard remained silent. Crusher took in a deep breath in an effort to calm herself.

After a moment she unexpectedly stepped toward him in a rare, intimate gesture. She reached out and took his hand. "Jean-Luc, I know you are hurting, but Jenice is gone…there's nothing more you can do for her now." She looked into his eyes, searching for some sign that he would change his mind. "And as harsh as it sounds, Vash is an adult, Jean-Luc," she added a little less kindly. "She made the choice to go down to that planet—"

"Beverly, that's not fair. She didn't know the risks—"

"Would she have even cared, if she had known, Jean-Luc?" The look in her eyes was almost painful to see, and he knew that this was as close as she would come to pleading with him not to go.

"It's not about Jenice, and it's not just about Vash," he said quietly. "It's not even about Riker. If we don't locate the wormhole entrance and destroy it, well you've heard the theory...it will be the end of us, and the end of the universe as we know it."

"Jean-Luc, I'm not ignoring the gravity of the situation we're in. My concern is that you are choosing to do this on your own, and you don't have to!"

"Beverly, we have no other viable options-"

"I'll go with you..." She interrupted suddenly, her voice breaking uncharacteristically. "We can take a shuttle, and-"

He pulled his hand away from hers awkwardly. The sudden realization that he would be unable to convince her to let him go alone had stiffened his resolve. And yet, there was simply no way that he would take her with him. He sighed and looked down, already thinking about the repercussions of the lie he was about to tell. "Perhaps you're right," he said softly. "I'll need a small team and a shuttle," he said more loudly, as he moved toward the exit to the lab.

Crusher straightened, and followed him. He could almost feel the sense of relief radiating from her, and he felt within himself a cool shiver of guilt. Sylvia had remained motionless next to the doorway. He glanced at her quickly, hoping she would read his signal; understand his meaning without alerting Crusher.

He hesitated at the door, and unsuspectingly she stepped out in front of him, turning back toward him just as the door slid shut behind her. Picard nodded to Sylvia, who sealed the door from the inside with a vacuum lock. Crusher glared at him through the window with a helpless and angry expression that did nothing to alleviate the dread growing inside of him.


	6. Chapter 6

Part VI-Chapter 6

"Are you certain you know how to operate the cylinder?" Asked Picard. He knew it would be a risk to traverse a wormhole, but it would do no one any good if he died because of faulty machinery.

Sylvia straightened at the device's console. "Yes, Captain. In fact, Dr. Manheim redesigned the cylinder following my return to respond to my touch. I am actually the last person alive, aside from my father, who is able to open the cylinder."

Picard walked to a supply closet, and opened it. "You realize by letting you help me Starfleet is likely to accuse me of obstructing justice," he said without turning around.

Sylvia looked up from a computer terminal. "Justice?"

"You admitted to killing a man, Sylvia," he reminded her. "There will be repercussions for your actions, whether you are an android or not."

"Of course", she conceded evenly, before returning to her calibrations.

Picard, not seeing the point of observing decorum in front of an android, who wasn't looking anyway, stripped down to his underwear and grabbed the jet black pressure suit he would need to squeeze into before starting his journey. As he stepped into the suit, he tried to distract himself from the reality that it could all end very, very badly. Instead, his thoughts drifted to Vash, and as he was reminded that she was in danger, he felt his heart rate quicken. Then his thoughts jumped to Beverly and a feeling of immense guilt hit him again. He glanced toward the door. He could no longer hear her pacing. "Good," he thought. "Perhaps she realized she was wasting her energy."

Stretching the skin tight suit up over his thighs and waist he glanced over at the android who had so recently been a human being. She had no choice but to come to terms with her predicament. After all she had been programmed to do so by a father who had used her for his own ends. When he finished putting on the suit, he turned his attention to Sylvia. "Are you ever going to tell me why you killed Dr. Manheim?"

Sylvia stopped what she was doing briefly to regard the Captain. "Dr. Manheim called me late that night. He wanted a disc my father had discussed with him, but had refused to show him. The disc was the report my father made of the failed mission to Exo III and Manheim believed it held answers about how Jenice died. In fact, the disc would have been worthless, had he ever watched it. In any event, I did bring it to his lab with the intent of giving it to him."

"Against your father's wishes?"

Sylvia shrugged. "Without his knowledge, or so I believed. I met Manheim at the lab as agreed, but my father arrived shortly afterward. He demanded that I give him back the disc, but Manheim became enraged, and then knocked my father to the ground. I...chose not to intervene. He was able to wrestle the disc from my father's hands, and then ran. Dr. Manheim was a frail old man, Captain. He began to climb the Tipler cylinder. I then felt a surge of some kind of electricity throughout my body, and when I looked down at my father, he was holding a device in his hand he had activated, and was pointing it at me. I was suddenly compelled to move. I climbed after Dr. Manheim. When he saw me climbing after him, he climbed faster. I continued to follow him until we reached the top platform. I was unable to stop what I was doing, Captain. I grabbed Manheim and shook him once. He stumbled and dropped the disc, which I then retrieved. I felt the energy coursing through me and I advanced on the Doctor. He tried to back away but there was no where for him to go. He told me to stop, he pleaded with me, Captain. But I struck him, and he fell from the platform."

Picard fixed her with a disbelieving stare. "Are you trying to say you were essentially programmed by Admiral Haftel to kill Dr. Manheim? That you couldn't stop yourself?"

"Essentially—yes, Captain."

"And you haven't the slightest bit of remorse?"

"Captain," said Sylvia with a slight smile. "Have you forgotten that I am no longer human? I am now an android."

Picard walked over to her. "But if all of your memories and personality have been transferred into an android body, isn't there something in you still human?"

Sylvia turned back to her preparations with a blank expression. "I feel nothing," she said. A few moments later, she looked up. "Captain, I believe that the cylinder is ready. I have programmed the settings used on the initial Exo III mission, but the device is now calibrated for one individual."

"Good," said Picard, picking up a phaser. He looked down at his pressure suit, looking for a pocket, and found none.

Sylvia regarded him carefully. "Captain, you will not be able to traverse the wormhole while carrying a phased weapon. The results could be disastrous." Picard frowned but slowly set the phaser back down. He hadn't considered that he would have to leave a weapon behind. He didn't know what to expect when he arrived on a different planet, years ago. All that he hoped is that he would be able to stop Haftel, and keep the wormhole active long enough so that it could be destroyed.

"Can you tell me anything about what I should expect on this journey?"

Sylvia looked pensive for a moment. "Unfortunately, my memories of the journey to Exo III are not clear. My human body was so damaged that I was not conscious for much of the experience. However I do remember...something...perhaps it was pain," she said with greater certainty.

"Wonderful," Picard murmured. He watched as Sylvia's hands glided over the controls with precision and speed, and it reminded him of Data. The thought of Data's plight made him angry again, and he felt his single-minded determination return.

"Captain," said Sylvia looking up placidly. "The cylinder is calibrated and ready. Once you are inside, I will make the necessary calculations and you will be transported back into the past approximately 140 years ago."

Sylvia stepped from behind the console and approached the Tipler cylinder. Placing her hand on the side of the cylinder, a door slid open. She turned to look at him expectantly. Picard nodded, and climbed inside. He was immediately struck by the similarities to a transporter pad, except that when he raised his head to look above him, there was complete darkness. He wondered one more time whether he should trust Sylvia Sharpe, and then the door hissed shut, and he immediately felt a pressure change. A dim light turned on inside the capsule. He stood still, hoping for the best, and for the first time considered the foolishness of this idea. The last thing he heard resembling anything familiar about the world he knew was a loud rush of air, and a whirring sound above his head.


	7. Chapter 7

Part VI-Chapter 7

Vash was beginning to wonder if she was literally being taken for a ride. For over an hour now Haftel's shuttle had been skirting the atmosphere of Exo III, apparently looking for something elusive. Haftel sat with the pilot, eyes fixed on the view screen. Every now and then his eyes dropped to regard a small object hidden in his hand. If Vash had to guess she would have said he was holding a communicator of some sort-but Vash was growing tired of guessing. She was also hungry. In search of food, she got up to explore the shuttle.

Riker's neck was stiff, and more than once now his empty stomach had growled in hunger. He shifted slightly in his cramped perch in a shallow closet behind several environmental suits hanging at the back of the spacecraft. Actually, for a Starfleet shuttle, this was downright roomy. But he was not a small person, and his joints were not designed to fold this way. He had begun to wonder about the shuttle pilot and whether he or she was inebriated, because the shuttle seemed to weave back and forth, sometimes shuddering with atmospheric changes. For the first fifteen minutes it was tolerable, but now he was considering coming out of his hiding place just to inquire as to what the hell was going on. Suddenly he heard a shuffle of feet and he instinctively leaned back into the alcove, squeezing himself out of sight. The footsteps approached, light but confident.

"Can't a girl get a bite to eat on this piece of crap shuttle? A sandwich maybe?"

Vash! Her familiar griping made him smile despite the situation he knew they were both in. Taking a chance, he stepped out in front of her, simultaneously placing a hand over her mouth. He brought the other hand up with his index finger to his lips in a silent plea for quiet.

Instead of screaming, Vash actually laughed. Riker removed his hand and gave her a quizzical look. Clearly she was not in distress; a little hungry maybe.

"Well, well, well, Commander. Let me guess: Jean-Luc told everyone he and I broke up and you just decided to move in? I have to say, sneaking aboard a shuttle craft and surprising me in the dark is one of the more original come-ons I've run into."

"What?! No...no, I'm _here_because even though you don't think you're in trouble, you are. And keep your voice down."

"In trouble how?" asked Vash, skeptically, lowering her voice only slightly.

Riker rubbed his hands together, suddenly at a loss. "One of Tog's associates knocked me out back in the docking bay.

"Ouch," remarked Vash, touching him lightly on his forehead. "And what does that have to do with me?"

"Not you, so much as Admiral Haftel. Tog is obviously working for Haftel..." he stared at her, trying to get his point across." Vash folded her arms, still missing the point. "Well," continued Riker, "after I woke up from getting knocked in the head I saw you getting ready to depart on the shuttle, and—well I was worried. Haftel has been acting very suspiciously..."

Vash's eyes glinted in the low light. "So you stowed away, all for little old me?"

Riker cleared his throat. "Well..."

"Did Jean-Luc even tell anyone that we broke up? You, know, did he seem upset?"

Riker was at the same time annoyed and amazed at her ability to so quickly change the subject. "Are you seriously asking me that? I'm telling you you're in danger and all you...look, Captain Picard isn't exactly free with the details of his personal life," he conceded.

"So the answer is no?"

He sighed. "No, he didn't say anything about it, but you know he _is_ slightly busy right now."

"That's alright," said Vash shrugging. "I'm finally getting the idea where his priorities lie."

"I'm not even going to touch that one," said Riker. "Look, can we stick to the subject-"

"So, what is Richard up to anyway?"

Riker frowned. "No one has been able to figure it out yet. But he's withholding information from Captain Picard, I know that. What did he tell you to convince you to come with him?"

"He promised a very lucrative archeological find. That's all it took for me."

"Did he tell you this planet has been off limits for years now? No one is allowed down there. If you actually brought back any artifacts no one would believe you found them on Exo III. Anyway, whatever he's telling you is some kind of cover story."

Vash covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.

"Look, maybe you think this is some kind of joke, but just don't blow my cover," said Riker testily. "See what information you can get out of Haftel?"

"You got it." Vash gave him a mock salute and then turned to walk away.

Eating a piece of fruit, Vash slid past Tog and his leering Ferengi crew mates as well as a rather rough looking humanoid with a pig-like nose and approached the front of the shuttle. She crouched down next to Haftel who stiffened slightly at her presence but did not look away from the view screen. She glanced at the pilot, a rather fragile looking Bolian male. She addressed Haftel in her most charming voice. "Richard, in my experience with archeology-which is considerable-dig sites typically don't change locations, yet your shuttle pilot just keeps flying. Tell me: are we lost?"

"Certainly not", said Haftel indignantly.  
"Well if you know where you're going, then why aren't you landing?"

"It's less a matter of where than it is a matter of when," he said deliberately with a small smile.  
Vash was getting a little tired of that smile. "What exactly are these artifacts you want me to fetch, Richard? You haven't exactly been a wealth of information, you know."  
Haftel narrowed his eyes at the view screen. "All in good time, my dear," he said with quiet certainty. But Vash couldn't help but detect a waver in his voice.

The beep was persistent. Sylvia, hit the door lock, and the door to the lab swished open. Dr. Crusher glanced around the Manheim's lab quickly and then walked in. She advanced on Sylvia without hesitation.

"Is he gone?" Beverly Crusher demanded to know. Her voice was steady and focused, as intense as her gaze.  
Sylvia nodded. "Yes."

Crusher's expression was grim. "Do you know how to fly a shuttle craft?"

Sylvia looked slightly puzzled. "Yes."

Crusher swiftly lifted a phaser from behind her back and pointed it at Sylvia. Her hand shook slightly. Sylvia could see that it was charged and was not set to stun. "Good. You're going to help me go find him," said Crusher.

**End of Part VI**


End file.
